Author's Note:

Written for THC.

House: Gryffindor [Stand in]

Position: Herbology

Drabble/Standard: Standard

Prompt: "I liked my life before you came into it"

Word Count: 1k

Betas: thank you to those who beta'ed the story, I appreciate it a lot!

Ronald Weasley limped heavily on one leg, a rucksack slung over his shoulder. A miasma of blood, dirt, and sweat wafted off his clothes; he hadn't washed them in weeks, perhaps even months. If anyone looked at him, they'd immediately realise that he had been through hell and back. A jagged gash ran across his temple that made him wince whenever he ran a hand through his matted hair.

It was a dark, cloudy day in late autumn, and a stranger might think he should have been at school. His once short, bright ginger hair now was dull and lank, and the happy eyes that had smiled so wide were tinged with dark circles under them, indicating that he hadn't slept properly in weeks. His legs trembled, ready to give up on him.

His thoughts were driving him crazy with worry and overthinking. He was scared for his family, not knowing if they were alive and scared for Ginny and his friends at Hogwarts. He was regretting everything he had said to Harry. It was the necklace's fault; he could see that now. The necklace tore families apart in a blink of an eye. What he had said to his best friend… something like that surely couldn't be forgiven.

What was the point in going back?

Ron finally couldn't walk any further; his legs gave way and he slouched heavily against a fallen tree stump. He slid down the trunk of said tree before he closed his eyes, exhausted. He didn't want to fall asleep out in the open, but he wasn't having much luck trying to stay awake. He wanted to distract himself, so he reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved the lighter that Albus Dumbledore had given him. He flicked it open and shut it again, not entirely sure why the previous Headmaster had given it to him in the first place. That didn't stop him from taking care of it, though. He often used the inside of his jacket to wipe it clean and keep it shining. Spending time alone made him focus on the detail of the lighter, and there were some ancient runes that he had yet to figure out the meaning. One day, he'd search it up, or ask Hermione. If she'd ever talk to him again.

"Ron."

Ron bolted upright, shocked, eyes and body now wide awake. Ron knew that voice — he'd know it anywhere.

Hermione.

"Ron, please come back!"

He looked down to the lighter that he held; her voice was coming from it. How did that work? Did Dumbledore somehow know he was going to get lost? Memories came flooding back from his time at Hogwarts.

"Hermione, she doesn't know!"

"Swish and flick."

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

"Hermione, you just punched Malfoy!"

"Yeah, it felt pretty good."

"Not just good, bloody brilliant!"

"Harry, it's a trap, he's an animagus!"

"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill me too"

"Happiness can be found, in even the darkest of times, if one only remembers, to turn on the light."

Slowly but surely, he heaved himself up from the tree stump and stood with a new mission in his head. His best friend was Harry Potter; of course Harry was going to forgive him. Right? He could hold onto that. Hearing Hermione's voice was another reason not to give up hope. He could do this. He'd find them again.

After another week or so, Ron was ready to give up again. He was walking through a silent village that seemed abandoned, with a church and graveyard and a few old-fashioned houses. In the graveyard stood a monument; a couple standing proud and happy, holding a swaddled baby in their arms. His eyes widened slightly when he realised where he was.

Godric's Hollow.

There was a light blanket of snow on the ground. He smiled slightly, remembering the happy times playing in the snow with Fred, George and Ginny. Or at Hogwarts with Harry and Hermione. He missed everyone. He wanted to go home. To see his mother, to have her warm hugs again, to hear Fred and George's laughter and Ginny's voice. He even missed arguing with Percy and talking to Charlie about dragons, and he missed Bill.

"Ron."

He blinked back a tear and felt for the lighter in his pocket. Sitting down by the nearest bench, he fiddled with the lighter again, opening it up and watching as the light from the lamp-post next to him zoomed into the lighter. Ron felt the deluminator warm up in his hands. It felt warm, safe, like home. He closed his eyes letting that feeling wash over him. A few moments, he flicked the lighter open again and opened his eyes. He looked around and his eyes widened. He had moved!

He was in a forest. It was freezing, too. The trees looked old and the only noise he could hear were birds tweeting and the odd twig snapping. As he looked, trying to figure out where he was, a shining blue light appeared in front of him. Ron narrowed his eyes to get them to focus. What was going on? The blue light formed into a shape, and a gasp escaped him. It was a deer. Ron looked at the deer and the deer looked back before walking away. Ron felt compelled to follow, like he could trust the patronus.

After walking for five minutes, the deer brought him to a frozen lake.

Everything happened all at once —

"Are you mental?" Harry asked, shivering once they got out of the lake. The shock of seeing Ron fully clothed, with the horcrux in one hand and the sword of Gryffindor in the other. Ron chucked him the clothes that were next to where he was standing — which Harry caught easily.

Both men looked at each other, each not knowing what to say at first.

He decided to say what was on his mind. What had been on his mind the whole time he was apart from his best friends. He thought about the times before Hogwarts, spent with his family. It was never simple, with five brothers and a younger sister. But then again, he'd go far enough to say it was ordinary. That's what he liked about it. It was safe and there was no danger.

Until he met Harry Potter on the train. His life wasn't the same again.

"I liked my life before you came into it," he started and Harry gave him a look that read 'you want to say that again, mate.' Ron spoke again before Harry could utter a reply. "But I wouldn't change it for anything."

After he met his best friend, he knew what it was like to have true friendship. Harry knew Ron, for Ron. He chose to be his friend. The first person to see him as himself and not as 'someone's brother'. Even though he had his ups and downs, always being in danger and letting jealousy get the better of him… he wouldn't change it. Any of it.

There was silence before Harry spoke again.

"If you think you can just waltz back in with the sword of Gryffindor and that apology and you're immediately forgiven, you don't know Hermione at all."

Ron nodded in understanding. "I know, I know that," he replied.

"Go on then," Harry said, nodding his head to the horcrux.

"You can't be serious?" Ron asked, knowing exactly what Harry wanted him to do.

"That's why you came back, isn't it? To help us win."

"I came back to say I'm sorry," he replied, watching as Harry smiled slightly, not letting him talk any further.

"There, you've said it. It's only fitting you're the one to destroy this Horcrux. The sword came to you," Harry said, and Ron sighed.

What Harry said made sense. He would like nothing more than this Horcrux destroyed for getting into his head, for days on end, making him think he wasn't worth it. Next to the Chosen One and the cleverest girl in their year. Making him think he was nothing. Nothing next to his siblings, his mother preferring Harry. All those thoughts had made him say the worst possible things.

It was time to end it.

No one else should ever have to wear that Horcrux.

He was ready.